Okigera grew as a normal Night Elven child. He was raised proud, true and strong. He loved his family and friends and enjoyed their company. He used to be a good, caring and well-rounded person, until his three hundredth birthday. To celebrate such a grand milestone, Okigera's family threw him a party. He was humbled and thankful for such an amazing gesture of appreciation from those around him. When the celebratory cake was served, Okigera was asked to go into his house to find a knife to cut and serve it. As he went inside though, he felt the ground shake. The shaking of the ground soon turned into sounds of footsteps. At first marching, they started picking up their pace, and soon the thundering roar of a stampede sounded. He panicked and quickly grabbed the knife and looked out the window, but it was too late. It was a group of Horde; they had formed a hunting party and were charging through the forest, mindlessly killing and destroying. The festivities there had only caught their attention even moreso. All Okigera could see out the window was the bright flash of flaming torches being thrown. Okigera heard his friends and family screaming; trying to flee the incoming bloodshed. He had no choice but to hide. Panicking, he opened the cellar door, climbed inside making sure to close the door behind him, and he waited. He waited through the sound of roaring flames burning their homes to the ground; he cowered with fear at the booming battle cries of the Horde party; he wept through the heart-wrenching screams of the Horde's victims, the ones he loved dearly. Until it was all quiet, he waited. Finally, the flames had faded to small fires and there were no more voices. Everything was peaceful again. Okigera climbed out of the cellar and his eyes fell on the devastation. In shock, he dropped the knife and surveyed what was once his small town. The orcs had burnt it to the ground; left nothing undamaged. There was blood everywhere; fresh blood that once coursed through the veins of his kin. He fell to his knees and wept bitterly. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him. He quickly snapped up and looked around. “He... hello?” He timidly said. “Is anyone there?” He started walking through his town, carefully looking around and calling for his family. “Mother? Father? Is anyone still here? Is anyone-” He was not alone. In the middle of his search, a troll rogue swiftly incapacitated him and was holding a dagger to his throat. The rogue brought his head down by Okigera's ear and whispered something he did not understand. Okigera was frightened and drew air quickly into his lungs to let out a cry for help, but before he could fill his lungs, the rogue flicked his wrist and slit Okigera's throat. Okigera dropped to the ground as his mouth filled with his own blood. As the dirt on the ground became damp with his blood and tears, he knew this was his end. He heard the troll cackling behind him; he knew he was going in for his last strike. He braced himself for his final breath, until he heard the roar of a saber, quickly followed by the rogue crying out in agony. Okigera tried to look up, but his vision was faded as he was losing conciousness quickly. He faintly saw the spirit of a wild cat running through the forest; the troll's limp body hanging from its jaws. As it disappeared into the mist of the forest, Okigera saw a last chance of survival; a glimmer of hope – Night Elven allies were running to his aid. He tried his best to get their attention by slowly waving his weak arms as they approached. A druid quickly knelt down beside him and whispered comfortingly into his ear. As she cautiously cast healing over him, she whispered, “Don't worry, little one. Everything will be okay.” As those words made their way into his thoughts, he faded into unconciousness.

Okigera woke up very suddenly and sat up in a bed. He looked around to figure out where he was. He had been taken to Darnassus, and was being taken care of by a group of healers. As he awoke, he was greeted by the one who knelt beside him on the night of the attack; he recognized her voice from that night. He had been recovering for weeks; he was lucky to be alive in the first place. As the druid talked to him, she slowly revealed to him exactly what his condition was. The rogue wasn't able to kill Okigera before he was killed himself, but he was using a special concoction of a poison that left the skin and tissue around the wound unhealable. Okigera was left with a very large and ugly scar right across the front of his neck, and the lacerated slice was deep and damaging enough that he was left unable to speak. He could only communicate by quietly whispering or by attempting to use actions to convey his thoughts. He was severely and irreversibly injured, but in a state that he was fine to go out on his own. However, any attempt to speak would leave him coughing and spitting up blood. His life would never be the same again. He saw all the people around him, all the druids and priests and others that he thought he could count on, and suddenly grew a strong bitterness towards them. He blamed everyone around him for what had happened – the sentinels for not arriving in time to save his family, or the healers for not being able to mend his wounds. For at that moment he realized that he was on his own, with his family and friends murdered, and his voice taken away. He soon left; he went far away, having severed all ties with his people, and went to seek somewhere he could be safe and confident.

He remembered the sabre that had saved him from certain death. He desperately prayed to whatever deity had sent it to him, even though he had no idea who or what had sent it. During his prayers, he got a very strong feeling that directed him to northern Darkshore. He wandered into a large complex of ruins and soon found some small statues, carved in stone that looked like a small saber. He gently touched the side, admiring the workmanship, when the spirit beast lept from the statue. As Okigera fell back in shock, the spirit circled around him, snarling at first. As it looked at him and recognized him, it grew more comfortable. As it laid down before him, Okigera knew this beast was his to tame; so he did. They shared an unexplainable bond that would thrive until their last days, and this wild spirit was the only thing he truly loved since the incident that left him scarred, physically and mentally. Afterwards he travelled for a long time, seeking a place where he would be at least welcome to stay. He tried many places, but finally found Ironforge, home of the dwarves. Okigera found that the dwarves were much slower to judge than all the other races; they looked past his disability and welcomed him as a friend. For that reason, he had made Ironforge his home, and he worked under the Gnomes of Tinker Town as an engineer. Until his death, he stayed there and considered the dwarves his new family.